


Un-Break My Heart

by islndgurl777



Series: give michael guerin a friend 2k19 (make that friend maria deluca) [4]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Gen, maria learns the truth about rosa's death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 03:48:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18328028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/islndgurl777/pseuds/islndgurl777
Summary: It’s not until she’s a good half-hour out of town that she remembers her promise to Michael. She continues driving, a vindictive rage sitting heavily over her heart. Guerin doesn’t need a text from her. He knew she’d be mad. He knew a lot of things he should have told her, and he was a coward for making Liz tell her all of it.





	Un-Break My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to be totally honest with you my dudes: I don't think this is my best work. I feel like I rushed it and my Maria's not quite right, and I'm not really happy with my Michael either. Maybe I'm just out of practice writing angst??? Anyways, I've read over it like a million (okay, like twenty) times and I just don't know what else to do with it. 
> 
> Unbeta'd. Title from Toni Braxton (because I've been wanting to use it for a fic ever since I learned the eps were all titled from 90's songs).

Maria swings by the Wild Pony after she leaves Liz’s and grabs a bottle of Jose. She’s upset, not an irresponsible business owner; for these purposes, Jose is just as good as the top-shelf stuff she keeps on hand for special occasions. She places the bottle in the back of the truck, along with the to-go box from the Crashdown containing a grilled cheese sandwich and a mountain of fries.

 

It’s not until she’s a good half-hour out of town that she remembers her promise to Michael. She continues driving, a vindictive rage sitting heavily over her heart. Guerin doesn’t need a text from her. He knew she’d be mad. He knew a lot of things he should have told her, and he was a coward for making Liz tell her all of it.

 

Liz, who had explained everything with tears in her eyes, but forgiveness and compassion in her heart. Who had explained that, while she was devastated to learn of Max, Michael, and Isobel’s involvement in Rosa’s death and their complicity in the ruination of her sister’s reputation, it wasn’t truly their fault. Who had explained about  _ literal _ body-snatchers and alien serial killers and horrific childhood trauma.

 

Maria sighs and pulls to the side of the road, anger still simmering, but reason and sympathy taking precedence.

 

[To: Michael] (6:47 pm): I need a little time.

 

She sees typing bubbles almost immediately and watches them disappear and reappear for a few minutes before they stop and don’t restart at all.

 

“Yeah,” she says, locking the screen and throwing it on the seat next to her. “Sounds about right.”

 

She rests her head on the steering wheel and closes her eyes, breathing deep to ward off the sadness. She’s not ready for it yet. She wants the rage. Another deep breath and she sits up, puts the truck into gear, and starts driving.

 

///

 

Liz and Alex both left within weeks of graduation, on a grief-stricken, rambling road trip to college and on a grief-stricken, unexpected trip to basic training, respectively. Maria stayed in Roswell, to help out at the bar and to keep an eye on her mother.

 

She had not been totally abandoned. Liz texted her multiple times daily, as did Alex before he’d been deployed. Mr. Ortecho said she was welcome to visit anytime, and she took him up on it often that first year. There was a lot of reminiscing, and those nights talking with Arturo were really the only times she allowed herself to grieve.

 

She spent countless nights in Rosa’s bed, staring up at the ceiling, wondering how it all went so wrong. Wondering if she could have stopped it if she’d left with Rosa that night. Wondering if she should have seen the signs Rosa was using again. Crying herself to sleep because two of her best friends were gone, and one was dead.

 

///

 

It took her a long time to accept that there wasn’t anything she could have done to stop Rosa leaving alone that night, and to realize that addicts are experts at hiding their addictions from their loved ones. None of it was her fault.

 

It took her a lot longer to stop being angry and forgive Rosa for what she’d done. For backsliding in her recovery. For being too stubborn to ask for help. For driving under the influence. For killing two girls.

 

Mostly, she had been angry at Rosa for killing herself and leaving nothing but ruination and heartache in her wake, and it took her years to forgive her for it.

 

Maria reflects on all of this as she takes a swig from the bottle of Jose, legs swinging off the tailgate of her truck, eyes trained on the mountains ahead of her. The sun has just dipped behind them, and there are reds and purples and blues all mixing together in the sky to create a perfect sunset.

 

She’s alone under the vast painting, having left the highway behind several miles ago to take what can generously be described as an off-roading trail deeper into the desert. One of the best things about living in the middle of nowhere is the boundless space available for you to disappear into when you want to be alone. She’s perfected the practice of finding the best spot, having had no one to turn to for a decade.

 

“And here comes the maudlin,” she sighs, taking another drink. She spreads her blankets out in the back of her truck and lays down to watch the stars come out. After a few more sips, she’s sick of the tequila so she caps it and sets it to the side, popping open the to-go container instead. The fries are cold but delicious and she eats half of them before pulling out her phone. There are still no messages from Michael. 

 

[To: Alex] (10:00 pm): What is the appropriate amount of time to wallow when your whole world view changes?

 

She sets the phone on her stomach, not expecting an immediate reply. The sky is cloudless and there are no city lights nearby, so the stars spread infinitely around her. She wonders which one Michael’s from.

 

[From: Alex] (10:17 pm): I think that depends on how willing you are to roll with the punches.

 

[From: Alex] (10:18 pm): And how much you’ve had to drink.

 

She eyes the bottle and shrugs. 

 

[To: Alex] (10:19 pm): I think I’m a pretty easy going woman. And several shots of Jose. 

 

[To: Alex] (10:19 pm): Nothing for the last hour though. 

 

[From: Alex] (10:20 pm): Then I think you were done wallowing when you decided to text me. 

 

She sighs and starts typing, deletes, and starts typing again. She imagines him watching the text bubbles appear and disappear, a worried frown on his face. 

 

[To: Alex] (10:21 pm): I think you’re right. 

 

[From: Alex] (10:22 pm): I usually am. You need me to come pick you up? 

 

[To: Alex] (10:23 pm): No. I’m out in the middle of the desert somewhere. I’ll sober up and then head back. 

 

[From: Alex] (10:24 pm): You want to come to mine? I can wait up for you if you want to talk. 

 

She bites her lip as she considers his offer. She should probably talk to someone, or at least not spend the night alone. Liz would be her first choice, but she’d sent her to spend the night with Max after she’d left her house earlier. And Alex has been working a lot of extra hours lately, on the alien serial killer thing it turns out. He could use the sleep. 

 

She knows who she needs to go talk to, but she’s still hurt and knows it’s not a good idea to hash things out when she could say something she will end up regretting later. Still, she feels level-headed enough not to hit him, and she hates leaving things unsaid, just in case. Regret has long left a bitter taste in her mouth. 

 

[To: Alex] (10:31 pm): No. I’ve got to go see a man about a life changing lie. 

 

On a long sigh she puts her phone down and covers her whole face with her hands. “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.”

 

[From: Alex] (10:33 pm): You’re not going to murder him are you?

 

Her gift has never allowed her to sense emotions from someone not physically present, but she smiles at his obvious trepidation. 

 

[To: Alex] (10:34 pm): Don’t worry, he’ll still be around to take you on romantic museum dates. 

 

[From: Alex] (10:34 pm): Maria! 

 

[To: Alex] (10:35 pm): Alex! 

 

She giggles when he spends a full minute typing and deleting responses. 

 

[From: Alex] (10:37 pm): You are the worst. 

 

[From: Alex] (10:37 pm): The worst best friend ever. A terrible person.

 

[From: Alex] (10:37 pm): I hate you. 

 

[From: Alex] (10:38 pm): Text me when you get there so I know you’re safe. 

 

[To: Alex] (10:38 pm): Cross my heart. 

 

She finishes her fries and sandwich and lays under the stars a while longer to make sure she’s sobered up, and then she waits a bit longer still to put off the inevitable. Finally, she’s cold enough that she has no choice but to clean up and start heading back to Roswell. 

 

///

 

It’s after one when she pulls up to the airstream and sees it sitting off-center from where it had been that afternoon. In the ground below where it usually sits there’s a hatch, open for all and sundry to see.

 

“Seriously?” she breathes, staring out the windshield at it for a minute before she gets out. She rolls her eyes as she steps over to it and looks down. “You have got to be kidding me.” 

 

There’s a dull glow at the bottom and she hears some light clinking, so she starts down the ladder, grumbling as she goes. The clinking stops when she gets about halfway down and she senses Michael’s wariness as he walks over to see who’s coming down. The wariness shifts abruptly to guilt and fear so she knows he’s seen it’s her.

 

He’s waiting a few feet away from the base of the ladder, turning a screwdriver between his hands, when she reaches the bottom and turns around. She takes half a minute to glance around the room, avoiding his gaze as she does so. Finally, she locks eyes with him and raises an eyebrow. 

 

He opens his mouth, and a strangled garble escapes. He shrugs and closes his mouth again. 

 

“I’m going to lay down over there,” she says, pointing to a cot he has set up in the corner of his  _ actual facts secret alien bunker _ . “And I’ll start talking when I’m ready. Until then, you can continue...whatever it is you were doing. Does that sound good to you?” 

 

He’s confused, but he nods, waiting until she’s actually laying on the cot to go back to his tinkering. She breathes slowly to regulate her heart and stop herself from lashing out at him. She doesn’t want to be angry anymore, and she doesn’t want to hurt him.

 

They continue in an uncomfortable silence for almost an hour before she says to the ceiling, “I loved Rosa very much.” He pauses in his work, and she waits until he starts again to continue. “She was always so vibrant and...alive. Even though she was less than a year older than me, I looked up to her when we were little, wanted to be just like her.”

 

She swallows hard and ignores the mix of their emotions brewing in the room. “The first time Liz and I found her high, I didn’t understand what was happening.” She shakes her head. “I mean, I  _ knew _ . But like.” She licks her lip, then bites it. “It’s like when you find out someone you respect did something awful. Your brain just kind of refuses to make the connection. There’s some kind of denial there. You know?” She turns on her side to look at him. 

 

He nods and clears his throat, though his voice is still scratchy. “Yeah. You don’t believe they could ever do anything wrong, and you’re there firsthand when they do.” He sets his screwdriver down and leans back against the table, crossing his arms over his chest. “It doesn’t really compute.”

 

She nods. “Yeah.” They stare at each other for a long time, a fluid mixture of too many emotions to name filling the space between them. “I loved her so much that I hated her for what she did to herself and those girls. For a long time.” His guilt overpowers everything else they’re feeling and she nods in acknowledgement. “So much happened because of that night. I lost my best friends in one fell swoop that summer and my life was changed forever.” Her eyes are filling, but she holds them open to keep them from falling. “It’s hard coming to terms with the fact that none of it was her fault after spending so much time hating her for it.”

 

Michael swallows twice before he says softly, “I’m sorry. Isobel…” He shrugs. “She’s my sister. I had to protect her. We didn’t mean for it to turn out the way it did.”

 

Maria sighs heavily. Having heard the same from Liz doesn’t make her heart hurt any less for three dead girls and three kids in an impossible situation. “I know.” She sits up and pats the spot next to her on the cot.

 

He moves to sit next to her immediately, which warms her heart a little. Three months ago he never would have trusted her like this. “What can I do?” He radiates sorrow and earnestness.

 

Tears fill her eyes again and she rests her forehead on his shoulder. “Nothing, Michael. I just need to learn to live with what really happened to her, and your part in it.”

 

He shifts, uneasy, and clenches his hands on his thighs. “I wish…”

 

She shakes her head. “Don’t. Wishing is a waste of time. The only way out is through, I think.” 

 

He nods in agreement and twitches when she reaches for his hand, then tentatively returns her squeeze. They fall asleep like that, leaning on each other.


End file.
